


Computer Science 401

by dicklomatticimmunity



Category: Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:00:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dicklomatticimmunity/pseuds/dicklomatticimmunity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While roleplaying/speaking with <a href="http://bloodyfire.livejournal.com/">bloodyfire</a>, I got this idea for a high school AU between Ed Jr. and Sam. I hope you enjoy.</p>
<p>Takes place before the events of Legacy, though I doubt that Ed Jr. and Sam actually went to the same high school.</p>
<p>I wasn't originally going to post this to AO3, because I am not particularly happy with the quality of this piece, but after reading some of it, I decided to give no fucks and post it anyway. (And no, there will likely not be a sequel.)</p>
<p>Published to LJ on December 20, 2011.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Computer Science 401

Sam rushed into the last stall of the guy's bathroom and leaned back again the cool metal wall. He closed his eyes and huffed out short, heated breaths as he tried to relax, tried to not be hyperaware of the bulge in his pants.

Fuck. Computer science, of all classes. Why did it have to be _that_ class?

Computer science should be easy. He had known, when he graduated middle school, that freshman-level computer science was below him. This hadn’t prevented him from having to go through tests to _prove_ his skill, but in the end, he had been placed in the senior-level computer science courses. He had expected these classes to be easy, too, and he had prepared himself to listen to the teacher drone on about stuff he taught himself in sixth grade when everyone else his age was playing football.

The unfortunate side effect of a class where he knew everything was that it gave him time to pay attention to other things, namely an upperclassman he thought was sexy as hell.

Edward Dillinger Jr. was supposed to be an adversary of sorts, a person to outwit and outscore, but Sam could care less about continuing the rivalry between their fathers. Instead, he found himself sneaking glances at the upperclassman. He went out of his way to sit at a desk where he could see Ed clearly, a task that wasn't difficult; Ed always arrived to class before he did, and so he was able to walk in and secure his seat, perfectly positioned to admire from afar.

Surprisingly, Sam never got caught. He theorized that this was because Ed was so devoted to his work that nothing bothered him. Not even a badly thrown eraser had gotten the Dillinger's attention, one time, when Sam had been really bored. It was as though Sam had been given permission to stare, and he abused that privilege liberally. Every time Ed so much as _twirled his pencil_ , he would wonder what it would be like to feel Ed’s hand around his cock. He would bite his lip and feel his pants get uncomfortably tight, and yet, as much as he wanted to turn away and stave off his increasing arousal, he would be entranced by Ed, unable to look anywhere else as agile fingers stroked keys, stoked the flame of desire inside him.

And that was why he was in the bathroom, slouched against the wall of the last stall, his erection straining against his pants.

Being fifteen sucked.

He unbuttoned his jeans hastily and pushed them down to his hips, along with his briefs, and then he closed his hand around his cock. He let out a soft gasp as he began to pump himself slowly. He pretended that it wasn’t his own hand around his aching erection. Ed had long fingers, probably smooth skin too, and Sam could picture this vividly as he pressed his index fingertip against his slit, eliciting a soft hiss from himself. He closed his eyes and lost himself in his fantasy, Ed stroking him, and he bit his lip to hold back a low moan as he bucked against Ed’s hand --

The sound of a door being pushed open jerked Sam back to reality. His body went still, attention focused on the echoes of footsteps as they bounced off the brick walls. He listened carefully, waiting for the owner of the footsteps to turn into one of the stalls behind him. Instead, the sounds of the steps continued to increase in volume.

The steps stopped, and a sinking feeling formed in the pit of Sam's stomach. He turned his head slowly to look at the stall door, and when his gaze settled, his eyes widened with horror. In his haste to get busy, he had forgotten to lock the door, leaving it partially open and allowing anyone else who walked in to see what he was up to.

The only thing worse than that was the fact that someone _was_ watching; a brilliant blue eye, shielded by glasses, was staring right at him. There was no mistaking that eye, the dark brown hair, and what he could see of a prominent cheekbone. His hand was still around his cock, and Ed, the man he'd been fantasizing about for half a semester, was looking right at him.

Sam swallowed hard as he felt heat pool in his cheeks. If it was anyone but Ed watching him, he would have slammed the door in the other's face; as it was, he didn't want to turn Ed away, but he wasn't about to invite Ed into the stall with him either.

“What do you want?” he choked out around the lump in his throat, one hand still around the base of his erection.

For a few moments, nothing happened. Ed continued to peer at him through the crack. Sam hoped, irrationally, that Ed would leave so he could jerk off in peace.

He didn’t expect Ed to push the door open, close it, and lock it behind him.

"If that wasn't obvious already, it will be soon," Ed said with a gentle sigh as he stepped in front of Sam, looking over the flushed, younger guy in front of him.

"The hell does tha -- " Sam was cut off by Ed's lips, which pressed brutally to his own. The unexpected ferocity made him tremble, and his body sagged against the wall. He willingly parted his lips for Ed, hoping to entice the other into a deeper kiss.

Instead, Ed withdrew from the kiss and reached down to cup Sam's ass. Sam moaned as Ed pulled their bodies together, and he realized now that Ed had an erection, too, beneath his too-tight black dress pants. He bucked against Ed, unable to help it. He needed this, _wanted this_ ; the idea that this couldn't possibly be happening was lost somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Fuck," he gasped. "Ed -- "

"Now you know," Ed whispered huskily over Sam's shoulder. He tugged the collar of Sam’s t-shirt down, exposing Sam's neck. He placed a kiss on Sam's neck, then his shoulder, and then he bit hard, intending to leave his mark.

Sam's eyes went wide, the unexpected sharpness of Ed’s teeth on his skin dissipating all rational thought. He hissed as he tilted his head, exposing more of his neck. He wrapped his arms around Ed, hands pressing hard into Ed's back, gripping his vest, creasing the smooth black silk. His knees shook, legs wobbling slightly, body thrumming with overwhelming need.

"Fuck, Ed," Sam panted. "I need -- " He felt Ed's hand slip between them, and he couldn't help but look. He watched as Ed made quick work of his zipper, then shoved his pants down just enough to expose the tent in his boxers. Soon, those were pushed down too, and Sam inhaled sharply as Ed's body pressed against his again, skin against skin, both of them throbbing, pulsing with pent-up desire.

"I know. I do too," Ed whispered, his warm breath ghosting over Sam's neck. "You may have thought I never caught you looking at me, but I did. I did some looking of my own too." He thrust against Sam as he removed his hand. He gripped Sam's shoulders, long fingers digging into his t-shirt.

Sam no longer cared that they were in a bathroom stall, where anybody could walk in and overhear them. He grabbed Ed's ass, squeezing one firm cheek and pulling Ed close, close enough to thrust eagerly against Ed, not caring how wanton or slutty he looked.

"Please," he begged, completely shameless as he rocked his hips forward, his harsh, ragged breaths resonating in the small space. His hand struggled to keep its grip on Ed's vest, so he reached beneath the tails of Ed's button-down shirt until his hand was on Ed's back, groping Ed's silky smooth skin.

"Do you know how frustrating it is that you arrive so late for class?" Ed asked, his breaths labored, heavy, as he bucked against Sam.

Sam barely heard Ed's question over the blood pounding in his veins. He was fighting to not come right now, to not spill himself between them before Ed was anywhere near close. He was a mere freshman, barely on the cusp of puberty, whereas Ed was a junior; Ed was older, more mature, and probably more experienced. Sam had kissed people, sure, but that was nothing compared to this, to rubbing his cock with the man that made him weak in the knees, the man that he fantasized about fucking in his bed at night. His brain still hadn't quite wrapped around the fact that Ed and him, in the stall, right now, was _actually happening_.

“Please, Ed,” was all Sam could muster. His cheeks flushed a darker red as he bucked helplessly against Ed, pre dripping from his cock, slickening his skin.

“Maybe you should let me get the good view for once,” Ed whispered. He spat onto his hand before reaching down between them and wrapping it around both of their cocks. He began pumping both of them, slowly at first, adjusting his grip as he felt out the most effective way to get them off. His other arm wrapped around the backs of Sam's shoulders and neck, restricting Sam's movement, pulling them closer together.

“We could work something -- _ngh_ ,” Sam groaned as he threw his head back, making a loud _bang_ against the metal wall, all thought of anything other than Ed obliterated from his brain. His nails dug into Ed's back, his other hand squeezing Ed's ass as he thrust against Ed’s hand. “Ed...”

" _Sam_ ," Ed gasped as he pumped both of them, quickly increasing his pace. His own lust was catching up with him, and he knew neither of them were going to last much longer.

"Fuuuck," Sam moaned, voice cracking as he thrust erratically. He wanted to tell Ed to stop, _I'm so close, I'm going to come_ , but the words were stuck in his brain.

"Sam," Ed struggled to keep his voice quiet. He bit Sam again, sinking teeth into the bruise that was already forming, his hand scrunching the collar of Sam's t-shirt.

"Fuckfuckfuck," Sam moaned. His entire body tensed, like a bow string being pulled to its maximum tension, and then he snapped with a cry, his voice echoing in the bathroom as he came, spilling himself over Ed's hand.

Ed came soon after with a hushed moan, sticky come spurting between them and over his hand. He stroked both of them until he was done, and then he collapsed on top of Sam, head leaning over Sam's shoulder.

Sam panted heavily, the reality of what had just happened starting to sink in. He stopped himself, trying to savor the moment, to capture the feeling of Ed's warm body against his. Now that the heat of the moment had passed, he was almost certain this would never happen again.

Several moments of heavy breathing went by before Sam decided to speak up.

"That was incredible." He meant it. His head was still spinning, still trying to comprehend how Ed could have realized their feelings were mutual.

"You ever done that before?" Ed asked casually.

"No," Sam said truthfully.

"Good," Ed said, lips curling into a smirk.

Seconds, maybe minutes, went by. Finally, Ed separated himself from Sam and reached for the toilet paper.

"Next time you decide to jerk off, at least close the door," Ed said as he wiped his hand and groin clean. He dumped the used paper in the toilet before zipping himself back up and tucking his shirt in. He checked himself over, making sure he hadn't stained his pants, and then he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Why should I? I like visitors when they're you," Sam said as he took some toilet paper for himself. He wiped himself clean and tossed the paper into the toilet before pulling up his briefs and jeans.

"And if anyone asks you about the bruise, feel free to tell them what you want," Ed said. "It should only last a few days." He left the stall and headed for the sinks.

Sam heard the sound of running water from the sinks as he flushed the toilet. He wanted to ask Ed if he wanted to meet up after school, but maybe Ed only saw this as a one-time deal. Sam wasn't quite sure how he viewed this, himself; sure, he would do this again, but that wasn't how relationships worked.

If he didn't say anything, though, he would miss his chance.

He left the stall and stepped up to the sink next to the one Ed was using.

"Ed," Sam said. "I... wouldn't mind seeing you again." He turned the faucet on and began to wash his hands.

"I'm two grades above you," Ed said as he washed the foaming soap from his hands, not looking at Sam. "You're a freshman. I leave in a year and four months. You're here for another three years."

"So?" Sam said, looking over at Ed as he washed his hands. "That gives us a year and four months."

"Why bother?" Ed said as he shook his hands, the water droplets flying back to the sink.

"You tell me." Sam squirted more soap onto his hands. "You're the one that followed me in here."

Ed sighed, taking that into consideration as he grasped the edge of the sink and stared at himself in the mirror in front of him. He shouldn't fool around like this with _anyone_ , say nothing about a fucking _freshman_.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while," Ed said finally. "Don't take it too seriously."

"Don't take it too seriously?" Sam asked, incredulous. "You jerk us off in a bathroom and you tell me to not take it seriously?"

"I just turned seventeen," Ed said as he took a paper towel from the dispenser and dried his hands. "You're fifteen. By the time I turn eighteen, you'll be sixteen. One year from now, anything we have other than friendship will be a misdemeanor."

"Come on, man," Sam said as he shook his hands dry. "You're talking as though you haven't so much as done drugs before."

"I haven't," Ed said firmly as he looked at Sam.

Sam believed it. He nodded and grabbed a paper towel.

"We'll keep it secret," Sam said as he dried his hands.

"Secrecy doesn't matter." Ed tossed the paper towel into the nearby wastebin. "I'm not looking for a relationship. The end."

Sam frowned as he looked at Ed. He tossed his paper towel into the trash.

"Will you at least give it a chance?"

Ed stared at him, silently considering Sam's words. Then, he scowled and pulled a small writing pad out of his pocket, along with a pen. He flipped the pad open and scrawled something onto a piece of paper before ripping it out and handing it to Sam.

Sam took the piece of paper and looked down at Ed's handwriting.

"Meet me there at seven tonight," Ed said before pushing the wooden door of the bathroom open and heading back to class. He knew he was belying his own words, but Sam was irresistible, and if Sam wanted to take a chance with him, so be it.

Sam grinned and pocketed the paper. He pushed the bathroom door open and headed down the hallway, whistling to himself as he walked back to class.

He wondered how much time he had left to wait for everyone to finish the essay he had finished last week.


End file.
